Miles From Home
by Filter
Summary: Toby/CJ "West Wing" fic which takes place twenty years and several lifetime before the first Bartlet administration. Much Toby-angst, some familial difficulties, and the exploration of friendship.


MILES FROM HOME

CJ/ Toby fic, pre-WW. Something out of my own little head, to give some history for them both. Due caveats and respects to the creative forces, AS, etc, for providing fun characters with which I am going to have even more fun.

Author: Filter

Spoilers: None. It's back history!

Archive: Sure, let me know.

Couple: Duh—CJ & Toby, pre-WW

Rating: Mostly PG, R+ for sexual situations, some language

My thanks to Aaron Sorkin for his characters and my sister for originally teaching me to read and write!

**Miles from Home**

By Filter

Groaning softly, Toby Ziegler rolled over onto his back. He was sprawled across a seedy motel bed in a musty and cold motel room, papers strewn across the covers. Blinking his tired eyes in the bad light from a bedside lamp, Toby couldn't make out whether it was three forty-five in the AM or PM—the shades were drawn. Toby reflected vaguely that he was impressed the shades actually, well, _shaded me._

He crinkled his way over the bed to the table and drew himself up, resting his elbows on his knees. Toby sat for a few minutes, letting the blood return to his head, then lurched up and into the bathroom.

It was the last day of a breakneck campaign, the day before the New Jersey elections. Toby's candidate, Jerome Drake, had abandoned Toby's strategy for what Toby saw as a pathetic attempt to ingratiate himself as a Democratic mover—Toby reflected that Jerry Drake was no more a political mover than Toby Ziegler was a fighter pilot.

Toby Ziegler stood at the back of a school auditorium listening to Jerry Drake implode. Toby, the youngest member of the campaign team yet the manager, had been shoved aside by the influence of a few Democratic Jerseyites with too much money, too much ambition, and no political sense. Toby didn't know how he had missed Drake's weakness for political money—Jerry Drake seemed to believe that just being in the presence of Democratic money guaranteed him a win. Toby, hollering in the wind, couldn't make him see that the money wasn't being accompanied by any political campaign knowledge. His candidate had gone from being a smart, go-getting challenger to a fawning puppet who spent too much time dining with funders and little sparring with his opponent. With six weeks left in the campaign, Toby knew he had lost once again.

Still, he dutifully wrote speeches that weren't used, advised Drake and was ignored, and argued strategy to no avail. At twenty-seven, Toby Ziegler was beginning to think he'd better start looking for a new career.

There had been a few bright moments. While following the senate campaigns around the country the publicity work of a small California campaign had caught his eye. On a whim Toby had flown out to try and recruit the guy, only to find out that the guy was a woman named CJ Cregg, who had no interest in joining the Drake campaign. After Toby had recovered his senses he and CJ had struck up a correspondence, light and political. He'd thought she was smarter than anyone he'd met on the campaign trail and she'd thought he was funnier than anyone she'd met on the same trail. As the end of the campaigns neared, they'd decided they would be good friends.

Toby rubbed himself dry after his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He knew he should check his phone messages, should call the office—he'd determined it was afternoon—and then he mentally shrugged. Running his hand through his dark hair and once again ignoring his lengthening chin stubble, he flopped on the bed again after brushing some papers aside and picked up the phone. **What time is it in California, anyway?**, he thought.

Part 2

Across the country, CJ was taking a short swim in the hotel pool. They were on a final swing through the state and were heading back to Sacramento later. CJ wanted to get in as much use of the hotel facilities as she could—she knew there were going to be few amenities when her internship was over and she went back to school.

She backstroked her way to the edge, checked her watch, and got out. Careful not to slip—CJ had more than once fallen into the pool by accident—she tossed her towel over her shoulder and made her way back to her room.

By luck, CJ's roommate was out. She tossed on a t-shirt and jeans and had just settled into the balcony chair to read when the phone rang.

"Jeez," CJ muttered, rushing to the phone. She narrowly escaped tripping over a table before diving across the bed and answering it. "What?"

"Hey, did I catch you at a bad time?"

CJ laughed, shifting so that she was leaning against the headboard. "Ziegler—no, no, it's good. How are you?"

In New Jersey Toby sighed. "Ah, you know. Sucks."

"Well, that's Jersey for you. So—how you feel about tomorrow?"

"I think—it's no-go. Nah, he's a goner. But your guy—seems like it's going well."

CJ thought. "Yes. It is. I'm kinda sorry it's going to be over."

Toby smiled. "So, you had fun?"

"Yes. I did."

"Met any interesting people?"

CJ laughed. It was a question he always asked, part of their gradually growing friendship.

Toby was referring to the first time they'd met, in the campaign office CJ worked at. Toby had been looking for a press person, and stomped into the office with the impatience that was his signature. Waving a press release, he'd hollered for the author. When CJ appeared, Toby had lost his nerve. He'd been considerably taken by her looks. CJ had been less taken with his arrogance.

CJ reflected that Toby Ziegler had definitely grown on her. They'd been able to see each other twice in the five months following their first meeting, spoken on the phone many times, and the interest had grown into a slight fascination. They certainly enjoyed each other's intelligence, wit, and humor, and CJ admitted to herself that she was quite fascinated by Toby's intensity- **and his dimples,** she thought.

"I think," CJ said, "that there have been a few interesting types along the way. You?"

"Oh—just one." Toby smiled to himself. "Hey—CJ, tell me something."

"What?"

"Does the fact I'm sitting here wet, lonely, and mostly naked do anything for you?"

"Toby!"

"Does it?"

"I'm going to hang up now, Ziegler."

"Okay. I'll call you after the vote."

"I'll be waiting."

Part 3

Four days after the election, which Jerry Drake lost by enough to be embarrassed, Toby drove his sister's Volkswagen bus across the country, stopping in Colorado and Utah on the way to California. He was tense the whole way—Toby didn't own a car of his own and didn't drive often. He was, however, happy that he could sleep and eat and do everything in the bus—even if it got him tagged a vagabond hippie.

About seven hours from Berkeley Toby called CJ. She wasn't in but he left a message with her roommate that he was near and on his way. With that he hopped back in the bus and drove on.

After lit class CJ came back to her apartment, looking forward to a nap and dinner. A note from Carmen brought her happy thoughts to a standstill.

"Toby's on his way. He's about seven hours away. Carmen." CJ read the note again out loud. "Toby? Oh god!" CJ looked around and tried to figure out which room to shove junk into.

Gathering up the books and clothes alone took an hour, and the kitchen another. CJ then cleaned the bathroom, remade her bed, ran downstairs to throw in some laundry, and took a quick shower. She thought the whole time how un-Tobylike it was for him to drive across the whole country to see her. **Doesn't he have a job?** she thought.

After she got out and changed, CJ tried to make the place look like she hadn't just frantically cleaned it up. A few books here, some papers there- **almost normal.**

As CJ was cleaning, Toby was negotiating the last hours of a too-long drive. He was squinting in the unfamiliar brightness of a California November, angry and a little frightened at the traffic as he got closer to Berkeley. More than one driver he passed wondered at the cursing, gesticulating young hippie.

Even as Toby cursed, he was growing excited at the thought of seeing CJ again. He had decided to do the drive when it was apparent he had nothing going on after the election. Toby, always frugal, had enough of a money pad for a couple of months and after a campaign for Jerry Drake was more than ready to abandon New Jersey and politics for sun, fun, and CJ.

He had been surprised at how easily his sister had been conned into lending him the bus. She was beginning a new job in New York City and frankly confessed to Toby she wasn't planning on driving in the city. Moreover—Rachel had been highly amused at her little brother's infatuation.

"Toby, she's really worth you driving all the way out there?" she'd asked him as she helped him pack for the drive.

"Rachel—you know me. Would I go if she wasn't?"

"I know, I know. Just—be careful. It's a long way. And a long way for you to go if—"

"Don't say it. Besides, I'm so tired after all this crap. Maybe the sun will do me good."

Rachel smiled. "You hate the sun."

"I hate a lot of things." He smiled back. "But you never know."

Now, several thousand miles away, Toby wasn't smiling at all.

CJ sat in her kitchen with cup after cup of coffee as the hours ticked. She knew Toby knew where she lived, but wasn't sure if—

She picked up the phone on the first ring. "Hello?"

"CJ! Oh god, great. It's Toby."

CJ could hear cars and traffic in the background. "Hey you! Where are you?"

"Uh, I'm in California, I know that… I think. I'm at a phone booth on—State and Forest. I'm also lost."

"No, no, you're really close! Got a pen?"

CJ described the route to her house and Toby said he'd be there before nightfall. CJ knew he was only about twenty minutes away, told him so, and told him to be careful as well. Toby hung up with a thank you and CJ sat down again to wait.

An hour later, a thudding, heavy knock sounded. *How does he make even his knocking sound exhausted?* CJ wondered as she went to answer the door.

"Coming!" she yelled as she got to the door. The pounding continued until she opened the door and Toby nearly fell in. "Hi to you too."

Toby caught himself, straightened up, and tried to lean casually against the wall as CJ shut the door. "Hi."

"How was the drive?" CJ asked, playing along with him. Toby shrugged.

"Ah, you know. Long." And then a huge smile broke on his tired, unshaven face and they hugged tightly, laughing.

CJ held him at arms' length to look at him. The smile on his face helped, but CJ still thought he looked older, tired, and sunburned. "Jeez, Ziegler, you look like hell."

"Thanks. Who knew the sun set in the west every day? I have no idea how anyone drives west ever. Damn sun. Can we sit now?"

"Come on, sit." They went into the living room, Toby's head swiveling to take everything in. He approved, nodded to himself, and sat next to CJ on the sofa.

"So—how you doing?" he asked. He thought she looked lovely, clean, and luminous. She thought, now that he was relaxing, he looked rather scruffily handsome.

"Well—trying to get things back to normal. They were pissed I wasn't gonna drop out of school and work full time for the new senator."

"Why didn't you? You're ready to go already."

"Because I want to finish. And, I need the connections I can get here. What about you?"

Toby laughed bitterly. "I'm cursed with perfection—Drake makes something like number fifteen in campaigns Toby Ziegler's been unsuccessful in."

"Well, you can say something for being consistent," CJ said with a smile.

"No kidding. So, I decided to take a break. You surprised?"

CJ raised her brows. "To say the least. I didn't even know you drove."

"My sister's VW bus."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Toby, you drove a bus all the way to California? And weren't mugged by radical conservatives? I'm impressed!"

"Thanks. So, I'm here, I have time off, and I fully expect you to convince me California should be allowed to stay in the union."

"Now, that I can do. But I think we should get you set up with some sleep—

"Shower first—please."

"Fine. You mind sharing a bed?"

Toby thought. "Depends who I'm sharing it with…"

"Shut up. I hope you don't snore."

"I hope **you** don't!"

Part 4

By the end of the day, CJ had set Toby up in her room, seen him showered, and allowed him to nap as much as he wanted. Since she was on an internship semester she had few school obligations besides the lit seminar, so she arranged to have someone take good notes for the next couple of classes, took a few days off from her library job, and settled down to amusing Toby.

At nine o'clock Toby came out of CJ's bedroom remarkably refreshed. CJ noted he'd shaved haphazardly, leaving a thin trace of dark mustache, but looked much better than before. He came over to the sofa and sat next to her, glancing at the book she read.

"Yeats?"

"Final lit seminar. You know?"

"I write speeches. Of course I know. 'Wandering Aengus' and all that, ya know."

"I thought you'd be more a fan of 'Second Coming'."

"Oh, I am. But apocalyptic metaphors don't work when you're trying to get someone elected."

"What does work?"

Toby grinned. "When I figure it out, I'll let you know."

"Hey—so, you hungry?"

"God yes."

"And are you up for music?"

"Why?"

"Because at eleven there's a benefit concert at the campus. I was thinking before we could grab some pizza."

Toby laughed and shook his head. "I don't buy you know how to make pizza out here. Salad, maybe…"

CJ punched his arm. "Snob. I'll take you to the best pizza place in the area, and then you'll come with me to the concert. By the time I'm done with you you'll be tanning and eating macrobiotically."

Toby grimaced. "Yuck. But, I did come all this way for a cultural experience, after all." He smiled at CJ.

"Bullshit. Unless I'm a cultural experience now."

Leaning back into the couch Toby considered. "I don't know. You could be, Claudia Jean, you could be."

CJ stood. "Well, Toby Zachary, I know for sure that you are. A good cultural experience—that remains to be seen."

"Whatever. Lead on. Show me the magical world of west coast culture, if you can find some."

Five slices of pizza into the night, Toby had to admit CJ was onto something. "Okay, this pizza is really, really good. Who knew spinach went with pepperoni?"

CJ smiled around her slice. "Told you. Now will you trust me?"

"Sure. I'll even try tofu if you like, provided it's been killed."

"Ha ha. Oh—hey, we better start heading to the college."

"It's only ten."

"Oh, it's gonna be crowded."

"Yeah? Who's playing?"

"Trust me."

Toby's first thought was *There's a fire here somewhere,* followed by the realization the smoke rising from the crowd was self-generated, thick, and pungent.

"Jesus—is there anyone here *not* smoking pot?" Toby asked CJ as they pushed through the crowd.

"Oh yeah. Lots of cigarette smoke too. Bunch of people are probably dropping acid to get ready."

Toby was amused by CJ's lack of concern for their lungs. He allowed himself a couple of deep breaths of a particularly fine wafting exhale. "Ready for what?" he said after he'd exhaled his held secondhand hit.

CJ stopped against the railing of the balcony. They were left of the stage, about seventy yards from the front of the crowd. Toby was mildly amazed they'd gotten through the crowd so easily. He wasn't used to masses of people parting for him, and as he looked out over the crowd he realized he was in a fairly large indoor crowd, maybe two thousand in all. *And all of them seem so, so happily stoned,* he thought in amusement.

"For this," CJ said in answer to his question. Toby followed her gesture and finally noted the stage.

"Oh, Jesus," he said, rolling his eyes half in mock-horror, half in dread.

Across the stage tie-dyed tapestries flowed over the edge and rippled in the smoke, hanging from the speakers, balconies—anywhere they could be attached. A huge skull and roses image hung directly over the stage. A monstrous tower of speakers rose behind the stage and on either side, and two drum sets and a ring of larger drums sat in the middle back. Even without having seen them before, Toby knew he was at a Grateful Dead concert.

"CJ, why didn't you tell me?" he yelled, as the crowd noise grew louder—concert time was minutes away.

CJ turned to him and smiled. "Would you have come if I had?"

"Uh…"

"Yeah. Come on, Toby, it's the ultimate California experience!"

"I thought that was an earthquake!" he hollered, then gave up. The noise swelled, Toby felt the crowd surge forward, and lights flashed into their faces and then spun up. In the flashing and smoke Toby made out figures coming onto the stage and sitting down or slinging straps over shoulders. He knew one of them had to be Jerry Garcia, and wondered if it was the surfer-looking guy, the nerdy guy with glasses playing bass, or the nerdy guy playing guitar. *Maybe the keyboard player?*

CJ squeezed his arm gleefully and Toby noted she was smiling hard enough to break her face. He sighed, leaned into her so as not to lose her in the surging and already dancing crowd, and committed himself to standing at the railing and watching.

The slight noodling and tuning continued until the lights settled on the band and the one Toby thought looked like a surfer stepped up, smiled a little, and said "Hi there." In a moment Toby was squeezed hard against the railing and had to shove backward as the crowd responded as a single unit.

It was the single-minded nature of the organism made up of thousands that most fascinated Toby as the concert began. As the songs began—Toby assumed the first song was called 'Bertha' from the chorus—he was entranced by the audience's responses to every nuance of lyric and note the band produced. He realized by the end of the second song he was seeing mass enthusiasm most politicians only dreamed of.

By the end of the first set, Toby also realized he had begun to listen to the music as the concert went on. The incredible improvisational ability of the group amazed him, as well as the lyrics of the songs. He knew good storytelling and metaphor when he heard it, and he thought the Dead had several quite frankly beautiful songs.

Toby was relieved however, when the lead guitarist said "we're gonna take a break and be right back. Thanks." The pressure gradually relieved on his back and he was able to talk again.

Glancing over at CJ during the concert, Toby had noted she was into the music and dancing a little. Now that he could turn to her, he leaned on the railing and smiled. CJ leaned as well.

"So how you doing?" she asked, too loudly. The wall of speakers created an impressive blast of sound. Her ears were still ringing with "Truckin'"

Toby laughed. "Fine!" he yelled. "I can't believe you didn't tell me this was a Grateful Dead concert."

"It's a benefit."

"It's a Grateful Dead concert!" he hollered, but smiling. "I thought you were more into the, you know, Ramones and stuff."

"I am. But you just don't miss a Dead concert, Toby. What do you think?" CJ hopped up until she was sitting on the railing, one foot pressing against Toby's hip to balance.

Toby grabbed her foot quickly, holding against him—he had a momentary flash of her falling over that scared him. "Well, they know how to play. Can't believe how well they jam. And the lyrics of the songs—some of them are quite amazing. So—explain to me who they are again? Is Garcia the smooth boy?"

CJ laughed. "Okay, listen. From the left, in front—Phil Lesh is on bass, Bobby Weir is on rhythm guitar, and Mr. Garcia is on lead. Brent Mydland plays keyboards. The boys in back are Billy Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart."

Toby nodded. "All right. Any of them surf?"

"What?"

"Nevermind. I really did think you were into different music, though."

"I'm into a lot of things—hey, Jimmy!"

Toby turned to see who CJ was yelling at and felt her stand up behind him. A young, bearded man with glasses jogged up to CJ and gave her a huge hug, spinning her in his arms and bumping Toby out of the way. "Hello!" he said, annoyed.

"Claudia Jean! Can't believe I found you in this mess! How you doing sweetheart?" Jimmy Fournier asked when he set her back down.

"Jimmy sweetie, you look great! I'm fine—oh, Jimmy, meet a friend of mine—

Toby, hands in pockets, stood waiting patiently. CJ pulled him closer. "Jimmy, this is Toby Ziegler—Toby, Jimmy Fournier."

"Nice to meet you," Toby said, shaking hands and evaluating his competition. Fournier was smiling broadly, dressed in corduroys and a sweater entirely too warm for a concert, and seemed, to Toby, blissfully stoned.

"Toby, great to meet you! You go to Berkeley?"

"Ah—

"Toby's from New York. Came down to visit, and I dragged him out here—I think he's digging it!" CJ laughed. Toby was a little annoyed at how relaxed she was with Fournier.

"Oh, man, isn't Philly just *on*? Yeah!"

Toby tried to follow their discussion of the music and failed, so he let his eyes rove and learn until CJ patted his arm. "Yes?"

"Jimmy's gotta get back to his girlfriend."

"Oh—it was good to meet you."

"You too, Toby. Take care of little Claudia, okay?" Fournier smiled again and laughed. He gave CJ a little peck on the cheek and waved, then weaved his way into the crowd.

"Will do," Toby muttered, then turned back to CJ. "He seemed nice."

"Oh, don't be jealous! He left us a little gift. Be a nice second set!"

Toby smiled as CJ lit the slim joint, inhaled deeply, and passed it to him. She asked a question with her eyes and Toby shrugged. "I'm not into it, but I don't mind," he said, taking it and inhaling. The smoke was sweet, sweeter than any marijuana Toby had had before, and he found he could hold it in his lungs a long while.

CJ was very amused and impressed with Toby. She exhaled into the air as the lights began to go down for the second set and took the joint back from Toby. The crowd began to move forward again and Toby exhaled his hit, moved back to the railing, and found himself standing closer than before to CJ. She smiled at him and giggled a little, taking another drag, and Toby laughed, took a hit himself, and "St Stephen" sent the crowd into hysterics.

Toby found himself very pleasantly high halfway through the joint, and was laughing and enjoying the music more. He and CJ nudged each other during the music, and once Toby was moved to holler "Yeah Phil!".

By the middle of the set the joint was gone and Toby had a protective arm around CJ's waist. For the most part he stood, weaving slightly in time to the music, allowing the sounds to wash over him and knit an odd safety net of bliss. He felt very, very happy.

CJ was also nicely buzzed and enjoying the set. She was watching Toby from the corner of her eye and smiling at his enjoyment. She pressed back into his arm and was gratified to feel him tighten his hold.

Toby felt the band wind down from "Terrapin Station" and jam, delicately and nearly-mystically, he thought. He opened his eyes and saw the musicians, heads down in concentration, and felt an absurd love for the gift they'd given him of the concert, and sadly realized that they were moving into what felt like the end—they broke into "Knockin' on Heaven's Door".

He looked at CJ then, and saw her looking at him. In a second they closed the distance between them and kissed. CJ turned Toby back against the railing and leaned into him, feeling his arms snaking up to embrace her tightly.

As the music came to a shattering end, Toby oddly didn't feel the pressure of the crowd. He opened his eyes and noted the people around them were standing a respectful foot away and smiling, some actually clapping. He smiled and closed his eyes again, happy to remain still and kissing CJ.

CJ could feel Toby's slight beard on her cheek but didn't care, leaning so hard into Toby he was momentarily afraid he'd fall over. He moved one hand to the railing to hold them both up and the other up to gently stroke CJ's hair.

The lights coming up after the band left the stage startled them enough to break the kiss. CJ shook her head a little. Toby grinned.

"Whoa," she said. She turned and leaned against the railing next to him.

"Ditto."

"That was—nice."

"Uh. Yeah. Never knew you could feel music like that," Toby said with a laugh. He was hiding it badly, he knew—CJ had to be reading his mind and knowing he was pretty crazily infatuated with her.

She hit his arm. "Shut up. Didn't know you had it in you, Ziegler."

"What?"

"That—kiss."

"Oh that. Well—

"What?" CJ asked, brushing her hair from her face.

"Wonder what else we have in us?" he said lightly.

Part 5

They walked around after the concert, Toby trying to get a grip on what he'd heard and CJ trying to explain some of it. They were both coming down from their high and getting hungry.

"Can we find pizza or donuts or anything this late?" Toby asked. They were walking arm in arm through a park, headed vaguely back to CJ's apartment.

"Mmm… lemme think. There's a place on Seventh. Might be open? Can't remember."

"Anything. I haven't been so hungry in a long time!"

They managed to find an open diner six blocks from her apartment. Toby paid for a couple of breakfasts and they sat at a corner booth and waited.

"Thanks for dinner—or, breakfast or whatever," CJ said. Toby nodded.

"Welcome. Thanks for taking me to the concert. I really liked it."

"I'm glad. I knew it wasn't exactly your style."

Toby shrugged. "Ah, you know. I usually dig Dylan and all, but I can get behind any good music. I'm glad I can say I've seen the Dead." He reached over and held CJ's hand lightly. "And it was better because I saw it with you."

CJ was quiet for a moment, then laughed softly. "Ziegler, you can do better than that… come on!"

Toby thought. "How about 'I would want to kiss you even if I wasn't under the influence'?" he said, smiling. CJ laughed.

"Okay, I deserved that."

"No—CJ, really. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but I really liked kissing you."

The food came then and they ate quietly for a few minutes, both stealing glances. Toby was glad the munchies were going away and his head was clearing. He had been a little concerned that when it cleared his emotional connection to CJ would disappear. With an inner smile he was pleased to note it was still there.

CJ watched Toby eat—she had a theory that you could tell a lot about a man by the way he ate. She noted Toby ate without rushing, pausing to wipe his mouth and drink. She smiled at his long dark lashes, the deep brown of his eyes, and the waves and curls of his unruly hair. Most of all, she loved his dimples when he smiled at her. The smile faded the seriousness from his face and made him look his young age.

"Do I have something on my face?" he asked as he watched her watch him. CJ shook her head.

"No. I was just thinking that you're a pretty beautiful boy, there, Toby."

Toby stared. He put his fork down and straightened up. "Uh—wow."

"Yeah. Wow."

He picked his fork back up again. "How—uh, what are we gonna do about it?"

"It?" CJ asked.

"This unnatural attraction between us."

CJ tilted her head and looked at him. There was complete sincerity in his chocolate eyes.

"CJ?"

"I don't know, Toby. I just don't know."

"You can't possibly be at a loss for words. Not you. Is it me?" Toby asked, finishing his food and pushing his plate away.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Is there something about me that's not okay with you? Because I can't imagine why you just can't say you like me." He leaned back against the seat and left a half-smile on his face as he waited.

CJ leaned back as well and crossed her arms. She stretched her long legs out and felt them hit Toby's jean-clad ones. "You can't?" she asked finally. She felt, even as she came down from her high, amused, happy, and a little- *just a little*, she thought—excited.

"No. I'm semi-tall, very witty, very smart, can quote volumes of stuff from Yeats to Kennedy, dark, handsome, and New York," Toby said with a grin. He felt her foot against his boot and shifted down slightly so their legs came into contact.

CJ snorted. "Semi-tall? Toby, you're like a foot shorter than I am."

"I am not. It's the air up there." He leaned forward, arms on the table. "Come on, CJ. I'm not into begging, but—tell me I'm not misreading the vibes around here."

"Toby, for a speechwriter you're remarkably incoherent right now, you know? 'Misreading the vibes'? Tobe—come on. You gotta do better than that."

"I can—" Toby said, and moved in for a kiss. CJ leaned into him and at the same time brought her leg up, propping her foot next to Toby's thigh on the seat so he could feel her leg next to him. They broke the kiss with a smile, looked quickly around the diner, and shuffled out the door arm in arm.

They talked softly and kissed the rest of the way back to the apartment, feeling more and more excited about sharing a bed, for better or worse. CJ practically skipped up the stairs to her apartment building, Toby following, when Toby's luck finally hit.

"Careful of Simon," CJ said as she opened the outside door. Toby stood on the stair below and behind her, and couldn't see as she opened the door.

"Simon?" he asked as the door opened and an orange flash whipped past CJ and between Toby's legs. He whooped and tried to move aside as CJ lunged for the running cat. CJ knocked into him hard, threw his balance, and with a pinwheeling of arms Toby smacked into the wall, one foot staying put during the spin. He felt his head hit the wall and a ripping in his knee and howled.

He wisely decided to stay in a dazed and heaving heap on the floor in the corner, suddenly aware he was breathing cat fur—Simon the longhaired tabby was sitting there, offended at Toby's presence. He was upset he hadn't been able to escape out the bottom door and had wandered back up and was inspecting Toby's shivering form.

CJ yelled Toby's name and helped him sit up against the wall. "Oh my god, Toby, are you okay? God…"

Toby mentally inventoried his head and body, and the only pain he really felt besides a dull throb in his head was a piercing pain in his right knee. "Uh—oh, man, uh, I don't know, hold on." He pulled himself up a little more and tried to flex the knee. A sharp hiss of pain later, he knew he'd busted up his knee. "Ah, damn it," he sighed.

"What is it?" CJ asked, still appalled. Simon wove his way around her as she knelt next to Toby, purring and oblivious.

"Did something to my knee. Damn it! I—I don't think it's broken though. I know broken bones, believe me."

"Oh god… okay, okay, I can borrow Carmen's car, we'll take you to the clinic—" CJ began. Toby tugged her sleeve. "What?"

"I'm not insured, CJ, I can't afford a doctor!"

CJ laughed. "Toby, this is Berkeley. No injury goes unseen, particularly not if you know the right doctors—the ones kind to students and small animals. Can you stand?"

Together they got Toby up and he leaned in pain against the doorway as CJ scooped Simon up and took him into her apartment. Toby cursed the cat and his luck until CJ returned with a set of keys. "Got it. Lean on me and we'll be fine."

Toby swung an arm over CJ's shoulders and tried not to whimper as she helped him out, down the stairs, and into her roommate's Pinto. Toby carefully packed himself in, leaned his head back, and fought tears.

Two hours and twenty dollars later Toby's knee was bandaged, braced, and he was grumpily wielding a set of wooden crutches. He was also in possession of a fine prescription painkiller, which lessened the pain but not his chagrin.

CJ parked and they sat quietly for a moment. CJ looked over at Toby and was surprised to see him rubbing away tears from his exhausted face. "Toby?" she asked quietly.

"It's nothing," he mumbled, angry at himself and his klutziness. "Just hurts."

"You sure that's it?"

"Yes."

CJ didn't buy the lie and was silent as they got him back inside and seated on the sofa in her living room. CJ's roommate Carmen was solicitous but discreet, and went to bed again as soon as she saw Toby was okay.

Exhausted herself, CJ sat next to Toby and watched his expression. His eyes were closed, head resting on the back of the sofa. He was frowning slightly and seemed to be mumbling or whispering to himself. She was sorry his happiness of earlier had faded away.

Getting up, she flicked on the stereo and Ella Fitzgerald wafted into the room. She sighed, rubbed her neck, and turned to see Toby watching her. "Hey there."

"Hey."

"You going to be able to sleep?"

"Yeah. Man—Ella," Toby said quietly. He loved, *loved* Ella Fitzgerald, and the sound of her voice helped soothe his emotions.

CJ sat back down next to him. She laughed when Simon hopped up next to her on the sofa, shot Toby a furious cat look, and settled down to purring next to CJ's leg. "Simon says he's sorry for breaking your leg."

"No he's not. He's sorry because he busted my knee—and now I'm missing the opportunity to dance with you to Miss Ella," Toby said with real regret. CJ looked quizzically at him. "I *do* dance, CJ."

"I bet. Ella Fitzgerald too, huh? Toby—you're getting more interesting every moment, you know that?"

Toby laughed, then sighed in pain. "Uhh. Yeah, I'm just fascinating."

"Hey, you wanna go to bed already? It has been a hell of a long day."

"Yes. Just toss a blanket over me, please."

"Out here? Uh-uh. Simon's likely to rip you apart for sleeping on his bed. I have a full-size bed, you can share with me."

He looked at her blankly. "You sure?"

"Toby—will you please give me some credit? You drove like a million miles for to visit. Come sleep with me, I promise I won't take advantage of you."

"Hm. All right. I steal blankets, though."

"Shut up."

Two hours into a fairly sound sleep CJ felt a shifting in her bed, hard enough to jolt her awake. She blinked her eyes open and saw Toby in the middle of what seemed to be a nightmare. She pulled herself up in the bed, unsure what to do.

CJ heard him speaking to someone, or arguing—she wasn't sure. She thought she heard "Dad" and "hey", and then he let out a surprised scream that tailed off into a soft whimper. Scared, CJ reached out a hand and rested it on Toby's bare shoulder.

In his nightmare, Toby felt himself falling and striking something hard, breath knocked from him and for some reason a terrifying feeling of dying. The fall seemed to keep going, Toby breathless and frightened, until he felt something reach out and arrest the fall. He jerked around in the dream to see what it was and found himself awake and in pain, in a strange bed.

"Huh! What—oh, oh, man…" Toby's eyes refocused on CJ's pallid face, and he was a little confused as to where he was and why he hadn't fallen to his death. He could feel her hand on his shoulder and the coldness of his body, and realized no, he wasn't dead, but he wasn't quite sure he was okay.

"Toby?" CJ asked quietly? "You okay?"

"Am I—we're—this is your place, right?" Toby asked, mind whirling with the effort to make sense of the moment.

"Yeah. I think you were having a nightmare or something. You looked really—scared."

Toby relaxed back into the bed, suddenly aware of his surroundings and his body's pain. "Yeah. Uh, yeah, bad dream. And—oh, I'm sorry, CJ. I'm sweating all over now, I'm sorry—

CJ had noticed how sweaty his body was when she touched him, but her concern hadn't been for her sheets. "Don't. It's okay. Shh, it's fine." She wasn't sure why she felt the need to soothe him—of CJ's traits, maternal instinct was not one.

"I'm sorry," Toby said again, eyes closed with the effort to control his breathing. He opened his shiny eyes and looked over at her. "I haven't had that dream in a long time," he said by way of apology.

CJ shifted down to lie closer to him. "Wanna tell me?"

He looked over at her carefully, trying to gauge her sincerity. Toby was already secretive—he'd learned early on to keep his personal life to himself so he could concentrate on being a failed political operative. He'd also grown up in a family that did not for the most part encourage openness.

And yet, here was CJ, a person he didn't know very well, but whom he'd already flirted with, gotten high with, kissed, and fantasized about. He found himself surprisingly willing to be open with her. He wondered if it were because she didn't know him. **Of course, if I tell her this she'll know maybe too much about me**, he thought.

"Toby—it's a dream. You don't have to tell me, but if you'd like to—it's up to you," CJ said finally. She knew he was trying to decide, and was willing to give him another half-minute before going back to bed. CJ already knew Toby tended to be very private, and could respect that.

"I—well, yeah, it's a dream. It's more like a memory, though. Almost falling down those stairs today when the cat ran past must've hit me pretty hard."

"I didn't think when I saw tears in your eyes that you were that much of a wuss about pain. You've been really bothered about the whole thing since it happened."

Toby's eyes widened. "Well observed, Miss Cregg. You're good."

"I am. So, you gonna tell me?"

Toby turned awkwardly so he was on his side facing CJ. "All right. Let me preface it by saying I haven't told anyone about this since it went down. That's not to say it's something I'm pulling out now to make you feel bad for me and perhaps want to sleep with me—

"Toby!"

"—but, I guess, maybe, you're the one I **want** to tell. I like telling you things, and talking to you, CJ. Just wanted to warn you."

Toby sighed. "Before I went to college at CCNY, I was up for several scholarships and grants, some for very, very nice schools. Even got into Berkeley. Money was really tight—I have a brother and a sister, both who went to school with my parents' help. But, I was the youngest, and for some reason my education didn't seem quite as important. So I said, 'I'll do it myself'. I was a good student, and knew some people, and started getting some acceptance letters as a senior.

"When I was eighteen, I had an accident that put me in the hospital for a long time, and it meant spending all the family savings, basically, and then my own savings. I missed a lot of deadlines, and by the time I was well I said 'To hell with it, I'm staying close and getting done as fast as I can'. So I went to CCNY, paying my own way."

"I don't get it. The dream?" CJ asked, trying to keep up with Toby's fast-paced story.

"Getting to it. The accident I had was a fall down a pretty steep set of stairs that led down from our home. I was in a coma for a while, and when I woke up I couldn't speak. Had to relearn that, and had to communicate by writing for a long time. I couldn't walk for a while. The fall left me with a cracked skull and just generally fucked me up—back pain to this day, headaches for months after, and a pretty bad feeling of nearly being killed. To top it all off, the accident happened because my dad was pissed off at me, drunk, and gave me a shove while I stood in an open doorway."

When Toby completed his story, CJ tried to keep her astonishment off her face. She could tell Toby was unused to exposing himself like he just had, and didn't want to scare him off.

"Toby, did your dad—

"Know what he was doing? I don't think so. I just pissed him off, and he reacted. Maybe I should have known better—I can usually read his moods pretty well." Toby turned onto his back again, staring at the dark ceiling and waiting. **Let's see how she reacts,** he thought.

CJ thought for a minute or so, comfortable as she had always been with Toby and silence. She could hear him breathing, waiting—patient.

"So—this dream you have," she began. Toby nodded. "You feel like you're falling. What stopped it this time?"

Toby looked over at her. "I felt someone touch me. You, I guess."

CJ nodded. "I woke up when I felt you moving. Wasn't sure what to do." She scooted down until she was closer to Toby, their heads on the same level. He watched her with curious yet guarded eyes.

"You don't have to do anything, CJ. I'm happy you're willing to put up with me, that's really enough." He forced a smile and his eyes widened as CJ swooped in for a kiss.

The kiss lingered, Toby bringing an arm over CJ's body to pull her awkwardly closer. CJ carefully draped a leg over Toby's, conscious of his injured knee, and snuggled nearer. When they broke the kiss they smiled myopically at each other.

"Okay, well, you could definitely do that, all right," Toby whispered. CJ chuckled and brought up a finger to trace Toby's lips.

"You taste really nice, Tobe," CJ said. "Like toothpaste and weed. I like it."

"You too. I mean, I like how you taste too. Jesus—maybe I should consider a career other than speechwriter. I must be losing it."

"I don't think so. Did you remember to take your pill before we went to bed?"

"Yeah—I'm happily dopey. Feeling no pain," Toby affirmed.

"As long as you can feel," CJ began, and moved in again to kiss him.

Toby responded with more energy than he thought he had, conscious of his hurt knee but more conscious of CJ's presence. He turned onto his side and positioned his brace out of the way of their gradually entwining bodies.

Toby was sleeping in shorts and a t-shirt, which CJ was rapidly pushing up as she explored his body carefully. A shiver ran through his body as she traced a delicate line upwards from his waist with flicks of her tongue, pushing the white tee up as she went. He caught her head in his hands and kissed her hard.

"Hey, be careful—you don't know where this all might lead," he said with a smile. CJ smiled back.

"I think I do," she answered, pushing the shirt higher until Toby raised his arms and took it off. She smiled down at him again, enjoying just looking at his body. Toby felt a little self-conscious.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked. "It's not really fair for me to be the only one half-dressed, is it?"

"Who said anything about fair?" CJ said before returning to kissing Toby, tracing the outline of his collarbone and down across his chest. She pushed Toby onto his back and draped herself over him, hands stroking his chest and side as she teased him. When she licked across a nipple Toby groaned and twined his hands in her hair, wanting more.

CJ smiled to herself, then hooked her fingers in Toby's shorts. Carefully, she pulled them down, past the knee brace, and tossed them off the bed. Working her way back up, she dragged her fingers lightly up Toby's thighs and over his rapidly expanding shaft. Leaving one hand to tease him, she kissed her way up the line of hair from his waist, across one nipple, and up to his neck, where Toby pulled her up for a kiss, his breaths coming hard and fast.

"Oh, god, CJ—that's so good, I mean, Jesus!" Toby said incoherently. They looked into each other's eyes with deepening affection.

Toby reached up and brushed a stray hair from CJ's face. She caught his hand and kissed it lightly. "How you feeling?" she asked quietly.

"I'm okay. But I'd like—

"What?"

"—I'd like to do the same for you." Toby stopped, then smiled and kissed CJ again. "Why do I feel so comfortable around you, Claudia Jean?"

CJ laughed and lay down next to him, her head on his shoulder. "I dunno. Maybe we're the same person."

Toby looked down at her. "How so?"

"Well—how many overeducated, witty, cynical, brilliant political animals do you know?" she asked. "Honestly, Toby—besides the obvious, maybe we trust each other because we're still strangers. You know, we don't know the deep dark about each other yet."

"Or maybe," Toby said, "it's because we're just connected. Maybe we always have been. From the time I barged in and started yelling at your campaign staff."

"Maybe. You definitely impressed me then. I don't—I don't know. I'm not sure what we'll end up being. Or, if we will. Somehow, I get the impression we'll be seeing a lot of each other, one way or another. Don't you?"

Toby considered. "Yes. Right now, I'd like to see more of **you**," he said with a grin, shifting so he could pull CJ's tank top off. Skin to skin, they began exploring again, with more intensity.

This time Toby took the initiative, sliding his hands down under CJ's panties as they kissed deeply. He drew her to him, and she could feel his excitement growing as their centers touched. Carefully, CJ shifted on top of him and helped him remove her underwear. Toby's hands slid up and around, thumbs teasing nipples until they hardened, then slid his hands down her sides, hips beginning to rotate on their own.

CJ felt her body begin to respond to Toby's gentle caresses, particularly when he stroked with one hand between her legs, the other sliding along her side and back. Toby felt her legs open wider to allow him access, and he dipped into her wetness with one gentle finger, stroking softly but quickly. He watched her face glow, head toss back, and used his free hand to pull her head down for a kiss at the moment he entered her with a finger. CJ gasped a little, the gasp swallowed in a kiss. Their tongues worked hard, in time with her hips moving in tandem with Toby's strokes.

Toby began rotating his hips hard against CJ, his own excitement near unbearable. He removed the finger and held CJ still while he moved beneath her, waiting for her eyes to open and look at him. When she did, he asked a question with his eyes. CJ smiled and nodded, and then, to Toby's consternation, slid off him and went to the bathroom.

"CJ?" Toby whispered, voice strangled. He was trying to sit up when she came back, small packet in hand. "Claudia?"

CJ sat next to him, gloriously naked. "I've never been willing to get very complex when it comes to population control," she said, as she carefully tore open the little packet. Toby finally figured it out and relaxed.

"Oh—of course. Sorry," he said. "Do you want me to—

"I'll do it," CJ said, and swiftly rolled the condom onto Toby's shaft. "Hope it wasn't too long a break," she said, and Toby pulled her on top of him again, grinning.

"No way," he said. They smiled at each other and went back to the business of working each other into overheated excitement.

CJ was surprised by Toby's strength—he didn't look very built and she had thought the drugs would slow him down even more. So when he picked her most of the way off him to find the right angle for entry, CJ gasped. Toby stopped, concerned. "No—not you. Lord, no, please go on!" she laughed. He smiled, shifted a little, and they finally connected.

They both groaned, penetration feeling like relief, and began moving. Toby loved being able to watch CJ's body moving over him, slim, delicate, and beautiful. Sweat dripped from her face as she concentrated on finding just the right angle. Hampered by his knee as he was, Toby decided to let CJ set the pace and was almost immediately gratified he had.

CJ pushed herself up until she was astride Toby and could feel him deeply. He regretted the lack of body contact but felt immediately the deeper penetration and sighed. Toby stroked as much of CJ as he could touch but finally gave up and simply felt the shocks running through him as she moved.

CJ flicked hair out of her face and watched Toby be overcome with sensations, head lolling back, muscles straining as he bucked his hips upward to meet CJ's thrusts. The sight was deeply erotic to her and helped drive her motions.

Knowing how close he was, Toby made an effort and pulled CJ toward him for a kiss. As they kissed, and Toby knew he was about to explode, he worked a hand down and began to stroke and flick CJ. He caught her gasps in his mouth as he felt himself begin to come.

His groans and sighs were accompanied a few seconds later by CJ's own gasping cries. Shudders racked their bodies and fluids mingled slickly between them. Toby wrapped both arms around CJ and held her closely as they finished, centers still grinding together, tongues working against each other.

For a minute or more they lay still, drinking in the sensations. It was Toby, conscious of his own sweat, who first spoke.

"God," he said softly, smiling. He kissed CJ's hair, smelling the wonderful odor of cleanliness and sex. "Thank you," he whispered.

CJ lifted her head to look at him. "Thank **you**," she answered, then chuckled.

"What?"

"Nothing… you look so cute right now," she said. "So—satisfied."

"Oh. Well—I am. That was—really something. Yeah."

"Yeah."

Another two minutes passed. Their heart rates normal once again, CJ very carefully rolled off Toby onto her back. Toby turned his head to look at her. She had her eyes closed and a Mona Lisa smile on her face. He felt a smile creep across his own flushed face.

"Hey," he said. CJ opened her eyes to look at him.

"Yeah?"

"I think I love you, Claudia Jean," Toby said, reaching up with one hand to stroke CJ's face gently. He frowned a little when she chuckled. "Why are you laughing?"

She kissed his fingers before answering. "I'm sorry, Toby. Didn't mean to. Don't take it wrong!"

"There's a good way to take it?" Toby asked.

"No—no, baby. I think I love you too, Toby Ziegler. I guess—what do you think that **means**, after all?" CJ asked. Toby blew out his held breath.

"Ah. Well. It means—okay, here. It means that we're so comfortable with each other we're happy sweating in each other's presence. On shared bedsheets. Good enough?"

By his answer CJ knew Toby was conscious of the oddness of their situation. She also thought he meant "love" the same way she did at that moment. She shifted and sat on the edge of the bed.

Toby thought he'd never seen anything more gloriously beautiful than CJ next to him. "So, is it?"

"Sweaty sheets… hm. Tell you what—I reserve the right to answer after we get that sweat off—take a bath with me?"

Toby grinned and struggled to sit up. "Oh hey—I'm adding that to my list of love," he said, and together they managed to get into the bathroom and under bubbles and water.

Part 6

At 9:30 in the morning CJ rolled over and was surprised not to be stopped by another body in the bed. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. "Toby?"

When he didn't answer, she sat up, checked the bathroom, and went out into her living room, calling his name. "Hey Ziegler? Tobe? Where you at?"

She heard a soft sound from the tiny balcony area and walked over, to find Toby sitting on the milk crate that was upended there, hurt leg stretched out and one hand absently scratching behind Simon's ears. Toby was absently cooing to the cat as he sat in the sun- **he's practically basking**, CJ thought.

CJ watched him for a moment until Simon noticed her and sped from under Toby's hand. Toby looked down, squinted, and turned to see CJ smiling broadly, holding a purring Simon.

"Morning," CJ said. Toby grinned back.

"Good morning beautiful. Sleep okay?"

"Not bad," CJ answered as she came out. Simon hopped down and went back inside to nibble his own breakfast before sleeping. "You?"

"Oh—tossed and turned all night—erotic dreams, flashes of naked skin… hey!" Toby rubbed his shoulder where CJ had punched him.

"You deserved it. Ass," she said, leaning down for a quick kiss. She sat next to him and leaned against his leg. "What're you doing out here?"

Toby sighed. "I forgot that there are places where you don't hear cars and trains and people all day and night. And where you can see the sun rise. And that there are people who sit on crates and just watch the sun rise!"

"Come on, Ziegler, you wouldn't give up the city for anything."

He looked down thoughtfully. "I don't know. I might," he said. CJ heard the soft note in his voice and chose not to respond to it, changing the topic.

"You've been up since sunrise?"

Toby nodded to himself. He knew that somehow CJ knew him very well, and he knew her very well, and they communicated without words in a fashion most married couples could only imagine. Toby didn't feel any anger or frustration when CJ didn't take up his hint—he knew that when it had to be dealt with, they would do so.

"Uh huh. Slept hard for a while, then was wide awake around 6. I didn't want to wake you, so Simon and I hung out here. It—damn, it really was a sight to see. Wish you could've been here."

"Mmm. I've seen the sunrise a few times when I pulled an all-nighter-and-into-the-morning. Hey—did you eat anything yet?"

"Nah. Carmen asked me too before she left. She's nice," Toby said in a marvel of noncommittal commentary. "Wasn't hungry. Now coffee, that I could maybe do now."

"You hang out here and dig the day, brother sun, and I'll do the coffee thing. And then, we'll see what you feel like doing." CJ stood and Toby held her hand as she did.

"I feel like doing a lot more of what we did last night," he said, kissing her hand.

"Slow up there, Toby. Caffeine first."

CJ toasted a couple of bagels as well, and carried two cups of coffee and the bagels out to the balcony. Toby scooted off his crate and CJ set the food down on it. Carefully, conscious of the small area and Toby's hurt leg, they settled on the balcony floor and noshed.

"I didn't know you had decent bagels out here," he said with a smirk. "These are fine."

"Thanks, genius. Eat."

"Oh yeah. I have to take those pills later. Hey—I'm not prone to tourist things, but I'd really love to see the ocean, maybe take some food down and cruise the Pacific Coast Highway or something? I mean, if you have the time," he finished. CJ nodded.

"I took a couple of days off—almost a week total. I wasn't sure how long you'd be staying. And I love the beach—it'll be perfect. Too bad you can't swim, with your leg."

"Yeah. Well, what's important is being there, and you being there."

CJ smiled at him. "You old speechwriter. Okay. I'll leave a note for Carmen, just to let her know you'll be back here tonight—

"Oh, CJ, I don't want to, you know, be a bother to her."

"It's okay. She likes you. Be fine. And you and Simon are getting along fine now. You forgive him yet?"

"Ha. Of course. It wasn't him, it was my luck. My luck hasn't—well, my luck's never been very good. I'm kind of a major accident happening all over."

CJ frowned. "Toby—for a few brief hours you were happy, kind, open, sexy as **hell**, and completely you. Don't scuttle back under your New York veneer of coolness."

"What?"

"You don't know how different you've been here, different from the Toby I've been seeing the last few times?" CJ asked as she packed the dishes up and took them into the kitchen. Toby dragged himself back onto the crate, then up. He hobbled in after her.

"I'm sorry, did I miss something? I thought I was being me wherever and whenever. Who did you think I was?" he asked as he entered the kitchen, sitting at the table and looking up at her. CJ leaned against the sink, staring back at him.

"I think you're Toby Ziegler—a friend of mine and now a lover—sometime lover, whatever."

Toby blinked. "What—okay, hold on. Just back up a sec. Let's do this one at a time, because my head's spinning trying to keep up with everything. Friends?"

"Yes, of course. I think so, don't you?"

"Well, yes. But that other—lover? Sometime lover? CJ, what did you think we were doing last night, having tryouts for sexual partners?" Toby felt he was beginning to lose his hold on the situation and was having trouble forming words—he hated the feeling. It made him feel vulnerable and stupid.

"I thought we were having great sex. I did not think—at the time anyway, since I really was more interested in what we were doing to each other—we were deciding to become lifelong partners." CJ felt the floor shifting under them as well, and wondered how everything had started changing so fast.

Toby's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "I—it, I mean all right. Yes, we weren't probably thinking major commitment, marriage or anything. But that doesn't mean I wasn't me, that Toby Ziegler is only real when he's smiling and kissing a beautiful woman. I mean, CJ, do you really think—no, do you believe I have a what, 'veneer of coolness' that I hide behind? A 'New York veneer'? What the hell does that mean?" He heard his voice get louder and cursed his inability to stop it.

"Toby—back off, all right? First, step off the box. I'm not saying New York means anything besides that you're from the city and you live your life in a city kind of way. You know that. Second—get real! Toby, you hide under a cover of control and coolness that is near-perfect. Okay—maybe not hide. I give you that. Maybe just—work that way. It's funny, because I know it's there but so many times when we're together you let it drop a little and are the funniest, goofiest guy I know. I guess I just call it a veneer. I think the you that I see when you're out here, or in bed, when you're not looking for approval or to convince people of anything, is really the Toby you always are underneath. I don't believe you **are** all veneer—or I couldn't tolerate you."

CJ sighed, watching Toby try to understand, and went on. "And Toby, beautiful, loving, caring, and sexy man that you are—you know, you **know**, my love, that we aren't capable of being a typical couple. Sweetie, please tell me you know that. It doesn't at all mean I don't love the memory of last night—or you." As she finished she sat in the chair opposite him and watched.

CJ knew she'd laid out her perceptions rather quickly and, she felt, nakedly, but again her understanding of Toby told her he'd deal with it better that way. She already knew he hated artifice—which is why she found his cool cover so frustrating. She watched him study his fingers on the table for a half-minute before he raised his deep brown eyes to hers. She saw sadness there, and something she couldn't place.

"Do you have any idea—" Toby began, then stopped and cleared his throat, "—any idea how hard it is to realize you've been made? CJ, we've known each other just a few months, and you tagged me already. I—I wasn't ready for that. Maybe I hoped you wouldn't catch up for a while more." Toby nervously tugged his ear, a nervous habit CJ had noticed when she first talked to him.

"I know we can't be together in that good old fashioned WASP way. I don't think I can do that ever, with anyone. And it's—that's harder than I expected. I guess part of me has been trying to protect me from realizing that, the part that you see as cool. I just—" Toby stopped.

"Toby?" CJ asked, trying to control her own emotions as well. She felt he was vulnerable and didn't want to hurt him and, possibly, drive him off. "It's—it's okay."

Toby smiled a little in his discomfort. He reached over and took one of her hands. "You're too good to me—and for me." He wiped his eyes hastily and smiled more broadly. "I was just going to say that I don't want to get hurt, and I don't want to hurt you, and if you say you won't be my best friend I'll cry until you do. I'm sorry about all that shit I said. Jesus, I love you, CJ," Toby said, his smile a little crooked. CJ leaned across the table and kissed him passionately, their tongues twining. She kissed him until she felt him smiling again and then broke away and sat back.

"I love you too, you goof. I'll always be your friend, best, worst, in sex and out of it. Okay? Can we go to the beach now?"

Toby laughed and nodded. "Definitely. Let's just—let's just do it. Whatever happens. We can even take my sister's van and really play it up."

"As long as I drive."

Four hours later, they were lying on a secluded and rocky beach, side by side on an old blanket Toby had found in the van. The sun was high and hot, and both were wearing as few clothes as possible. Toby shrugged off CJ's concern about sunburn.

"CJ, I don't even **see** the sun in New York. Besides, I'm already part-burned from the drive."

"All right. Age prematurely for all I care."

Toby looked over at her, squinting. "CJ, do you honestly think I'm gonna avoid prematurely aging? I mean—in a few years most of this nice curly hair is gonna be gone, ya know."

CJ reached over and ruffled his hair. "Maybe." She moved her hand down to pat his chest. "But this'll still be there—and this," she finished, sliding her hand down under the waistband of his shorts.

"Hey now," he said, rolling over to kiss her. It took a half-hour more and a sunburn before they moved off the beach and back into the van, where they drank a few beers and sat in the open side door, arms around each other, watching the ocean. He had also found his sister's loaded Polaroid camera and made CJ pose with him in the back of the van, smiling and goofy in their swimsuits.

They finally packed up and drove around for a while longer, CJ pointing out sights and Toby pretending to look at them while gazing at her. They found their way back to her apartment as night fell.

CJ turned the key off and sat back in the seat. "Whoa, quite the day," she sighed.

Toby turned in his seat. "Yeah. Thanks for driving—I didn't know how beautiful it was out here."

"Not a problem. Give me another month, and I'd make you a Californian."

Toby laughed loudly. "Oh god, never. I can't live here. Too—calm."

"I know," CJ said, and opened her door. Toby opened his and lurched down to the curb. He leaned against the van until CJ came around. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah. I feel like just sitting, or laying down—like napping in a bed filled with lotion. Man, I'm fried!" Toby said, looking down at his reddened arms. CJ chuckled and took his arm gently.

"Come on. Aloe vera awaits."

They talked about their day as they went into the apartment, comfortable and happy. Carmen waved from the sofa as they came in. "Hey you guys."

"Hey, hi!" Toby and CJ said almost simultaneously.

"Oh, Toby—you got a call while you were gone. She said—I think it was Rebecca? The message is on the kitchen table." Carmen gestured in that direction before going back to her book.

CJ wondered at that. **Who's Rebecca?** she thought, as she felt Toby balk next to her. "Toby?"

"Ah—ah, thanks, Carmen. Thanks," he said, carefully untangling himself from CJ to go into the kitchen.

CJ came into the kitchen to find Toby reading the note. "Hey, Tobe," she said, slipping her arms around him from behind. Toby finished the note and she felt him sag a little. "You okay?"

He sighed. "Yeah… no. I have to go back to New York," he said quietly. "Damn it!" CJ let him go as he turned to face her. "I'm sorry," he said. "CJ, I'm sorry.

"What is it, Toby?"

"My sister, Rachel. She started her new job in New York a week ago or so, and—my mom took a fall and someone needs to be with her for a couple of weeks, and since Rachel's working full-time now, and my brother David's out of the country—it's me." Toby raised his hands helplessly. "I gotta go back."

"Toby, is your mom okay? Did she—

"Uh, no. Could I borrow your phone? I'll leave some money for the call."

"Toby! Go ahead and call. I hope she's fine."

"Thanks." Toby sat at the table and dialed, waiting through the myriad clicks and whirrs as the connection was made to New York. CJ got a glass of tea from the fridge, Toby nodding when she asked with her eyes if he wanted a drink.

"Will someone please—oh! Hi, Dad, it's Toby. How's ma? Uh huh… no, I got the message from Rachel. When did it happen? But—why didn't she call me until this evening, Dad? No… yeah, all right. I guess. Is Rach there? Can I talk to her?" Toby closed his eyes and rubbed them, sighing. CJ sat across from him. "Rachel! No, I'm fine, but why didn't you call—what? Oh. Yes, you know I will."

In New York Rachel heard the hurt in her brother's voice. "Toby, you know if I could be here I would. David can't come back from Saudi Arabia. You know I hate dropping this on you, little brother, but please—right now, please help me out."

"Of course I will! I just—damn Rach, I was looking forward to a little time off. You know I'll come back right away. Will she be okay till I get back?"

"I think so. I asked Mrs. Sadowski from across the street to stay with Mom until you got back here. I just—" Rachel stopped.

In Berkeley, Toby filled in the blank. "Rachel, the old man—is he giving you grief?"

Rachel, conscious of her father in the other room, nodded to herself. "Yeah. Of course. He's scared, Toby, and you know how he gets when he's scared."

"Yeah. Tell me—Ma's gonna be fine, right? Seriously?"

"Yes. She didn't break anything, thank god, but she tore some muscles and they need her to be pretty still for a while. She wouldn't stay in the hospital."

"Yeah, and their insurance wouldn't cover it anyway. Okay. Rachel, don't worry. I'll be back as soon as I can—probably not more than two days."

"Two days? Toby, you can't—

"I can. Hang in there for me, okay? I love you," Toby finished quietly. He heard his sister say the same to him and then hung up, tired and frustrated. He crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head on them. "Je-sus. My family and gravity… falls all around. Shit!"

CJ scooted her chair over to him and rubbed his neck. Toby reached up and held her hand. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Is everything okay?" she asked. She heard him sigh and lift his head. His eyes were exhausted and shiny.

"I have to go back. My mom's going to be okay, but she has to have someone stay with her for a while. Rachel's got a new job, David's out of the country—Toby gets the detail."

"Your dad?" CJ asked, though she knew a little about Micah Ziegler and doubted his capabilities. Toby shook his head.

"No. Besides, he works too. Damn… damn! I wanted—I just—I wanted—

"Toby?"

"I wanted a fuckin' break!" Toby exploded, nearly bursting into tears of frustration. "Just one little break, some time off, away, with you… damn." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

CJ stood, pulled him up, and hugged him hard. "Toby, Tobe… it's okay. Don't apologize."

She heard him snuffle back his tears and clear his throat. When she looked at him he kept his eyes averted. "Thanks," he said awkwardly. CJ held him at arms' length.

"Toby—look at me. Toby… good. It's okay. Go back, take care of your mother. I'll be here. Just—smile, beautiful boy," CJ said quietly. Toby looked up under his lashes. A small smile broke on his face.

"You always make me smile, CJ Cregg. Thank you."

"Don't thank me, just—

CJ pulled him close for a deep, passionate, lingering kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other, kissing as if this would be their last.

Toby was the one who pulled away. He looked for a long time into CJ's eyes, silent. One hand reached up and moved a stray lock out of CJ's eyes.

"I love you, CJ," he whispered to her. She smiled.

"Ziegler—I love **you**. Beautiful boy, smile for me?"

Toby smiled sincerely. "Anything for you."

Part 7

A day and a half later, CJ was pulled out of a dream by the phone. She rolled over to answer it, at the same time noting it was 425 am. "Huh?" she grunted into the phone.

"CJ? Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Hearing Toby's voice brought her completely out of sleep. "Toby? Hey! Are you okay? Where are you?"

Toby's voice wavered as he shivered at a windy Pennsylvania phone booth off the highway. "Uh, Pennsylvania. I think. I'm okay. Just wanted to say hey."

CJ sat up against her headboard. "Hey back. The drive okay? And how the hell did you get to Pennsylvania already?"

"The miracle of uppers. And, I can sleep in the van so I've just been catnapping."

She smiled. "Miss you," she said. "Bed's so big without you here."

Toby laughed over the phone. "Well, the van's crowded whenever, but man, CJ—I miss you. Waaaay too much!"

"There's no such thing, Tobe. But really, you should be careful driving. You're gonna be exhausted. Knee okay?"

"I'm always exhausted. And yeah, it's okay—at least it's not my clutching leg." Toby turned away from the wind, trying without success to get warm again. "Damn, I thought at least I'd feel warmer now that I'm sunburned! Oh well. I won't keep you up. I just wanted to say hi, see how you were, and say thanks again for an awesome, if too short, visit."

CJ smiled happily. "You're welcome. I was so glad you came. It was great to see you, beautiful. Next time, we'll do they whole scene."

"Grateful Dead and all?"

"Ha ha. If you want. Listen, Toby—please take care of yourself. I'd be really pissed off if something happened to you. Will you call again when you get to New York?"

Toby glanced out at the dark sky, and then ducked back in. "Well, there may be some snow coming on but I can handle that. You take care too. Simon's dangerous when provoked." He smiled at her laughter ringing across the line. "I'll call when I get home. Be good—love you."

CJ slid back down in bed and stretched. For some reason, when Toby said that she felt thrilled and oddly satisfied. "You be good. Love you too, Toby. Please be careful."

"Good night, CJ."

"Night, Toby Ziegler."

Toby hung up and pulled his jacket closer around him as he got ready to run back to the van. He sighed and shuffled back into the van, slamming the door and slapping his hands together to warm them.

Toby flicked on the inside light and went to the back of the van to check his route once more—he had a paranoia now of getting lost after his trek to California. He pulled the map out and spread it on the floor, frowning over it and finally nodding. When he went to put it back he found it jamming something in the pocket and reached in.

When he pulled out the Polaroid he had taken of him and CJ in the van, Toby wasn't sure whether to laugh or weep. He sat and looked at it for a long while. They both wore sunglasses and were smiling goofily, arms around each other.

"Oh, CJ," Toby said softly, wiping away one tear. He took the picture and moved back into the driver's seat, tightening his knee brace for the drive. He propped the picture up in the ashtray and smiled at it.

"I'll be back," he said out loud. Cranking the engine, he settled the picture more carefully, blew out a frosty breath, and drove out into a gradually brightening day. Half a minute into his drive, Toby was grinning and singing softly to himself:

…got a wife in Chino, babe, And one in Cherokee

_First one says she's got my child_

_But it don't look like me._

_I set out running but I take my time_

_A friend of the devil is a friend of mine_

_If I get home before daylight_

_Just might get some sleep tonight._

END

(Lyrics for "Friend of the Devil" by Robert Hunter.)


End file.
